Gimme your phone!
by Maren1978
Summary: Jack is tired of always watching Mac break his phone to save the day. But not this time...!


AN: I came up with the idea to this silly little story after watching Mac mutilate Jack's phone for the umpteenth time…

This is my first attempt to write fanfiction. I hope it doesn't turn out too bad, especially as I'm not a native English speaker. Anyway, I finally worked up the courage to post it.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them for a little while and I put them back as good as new afterwards. I promise! ;-)

* * *

Gimme your phone!

"You gotta hurry, Mac! I'll be running out of ammo soon!"

Mac didn't look up from his work on the contraption he was placing near the crate with the illegal shipment of weapons. Jack was kneeling next to him, both men taking cover behind an upturned metal table. The older agent had his sniper-rifle placed on the table-edge and was squeezing off occasional shots at their opponents, who were trying to surround them to attack them from behind. He just couldn't let that happen…

"Just a minute… WHOAAH!" Mac shouted, dropping to the ground a split-second later, as a bullet buried itself into the wooden crate, way too close to his head for comfort.

"You OK, bud?" Jack watched his friend pick himself up from the floor, worried for a moment. He sighed in relief, when he realized that his partner didn't seem to be hurt.

"Just my pride… Keep that cover-fire up. I'm almost done…" The young blonde made some final adjustments to the wires he was connecting in order to blow up the crate in just the right moment. Preferably, when both of them had left the building.

"I won't be able to keep it up much longer… Didn't expect the party to be this crowded!"

"Someone must have mentioned free drinks in the invitation," Mac suggested with half a grin, only to switch back to business in a heartbeat. "Just save a few of those bullets to grant us a safe passage to the exit!"

Jack eyed the partly open door and estimated the distance. Hardly 50 feet, but with no cover at all. They would literally be running for their lives soon.

"Can't GRANT anything right now!" he grumbled in a low voice, "But I sure as hell will do my best!"

"Good enough for me.", Mac replied confidently. Then, he said the magic sentence; the one he knew would earn him vehement protest from his partner. As they didn't have time for that right now, he was just ready for it. "Jack, I need your phone! Don't worry, I won't br-!" The younger man broke off mid-word and blinked, puzzled, mouth hanging slightly open, completely distracted for a moment. Without even hesitating for the fracture of a second, Jack had, very uncharacteristically, reached into his pocket and now waved the device in front of Mac's face.

Quickly shoving his confusion to the back of his mind, he grabbed the phone and pocketed it. He locked eyes with Jack. It was now or never!

Both agents jumped out of the questionable cover of the table and started to run at full speed towards the door. The element of surprise was working for them, as the bad guys were thankfully startled enough to give them precious seconds.

They had almost reached the door, when finally the arms-dealers and potential buyers recovered from the shock of them making such a stupid and most likely suicidal move. Jack kept close behind Mac, subconsciously trying to shield his young partner from any bullets coming their way. He had exchanged his empty rifle for his Baretta and was firing round after round blindly behind him while he was running. Of course, he didn't expect to actually hit anyone, but he dearly hoped his fire would discourage their opponents from aiming too well.

Miraculously, the crude tactic worked. Just as Jack's last clip went empty, Mac crashed through the door and threw himself sideways to make room for Jack. The other man followed a blink of an eye later. Immediately, both jumped up, threw the metal door closed and Mac jammed it with a metal bar he had taken from a heap of scrap metal next to the door. That was the moment when they heard several bullets pinging off the inside of the door.

"Alright, this won't keep them in there for long. Blow the thing, before they realize what we're up to and tamper with your handiwork."

Mac agreed and pulled Jack's phone from the inner pocket of his leather jacket… and froze!

"Jack?"

Jack looked at him, innocently. "Hmmm?"

"Jack, what the hell is THIS?!"

"It's called a 'cell-phone'." Jack explained in the tone of someone describing today's technology to somebody who had stumbled into the current decade from the sixties of the last century. Mac stared at him for several full seconds, flabbergasted, than back at the ancient, battered and out-of-order phone in his hand.

"What am I supposed to do with this junk? Where is your phone?" He sounded slightly desperate.

"What you are supposed to do with it? Well, you usually know very well what to do with my stuff: break it, rip it apart, tear it to shreds, or just give it away! So I brought you a phone, which won't break my heart for a change, when I have to watch it being broken! Oh, and for your second question: MY phone is… Somewhere safe!" Jack grinned at Mac, looking rather pleased with himself.

MacGyver took a moment to close his eyes and take a couple of calming breaths. When he heard their "party guests" trying to break down the door from the inside, he shook himself out of it and went on, now in a very patient tone of voice: "Jack! I dearly hope that this 'somewhere safe' is within reach! I don't need your phone to break it! I need to call my own phone to trigger the explosion!"

"You - You don't want to br- break my phone? Not even damage it the tiniest little bit? No kidding?" Jack stammered in a small voice. He started to realize that he might have made a mistake. Guiltily, he started to rummage through the pockets of his jacket and produced his real, and actually working, phone. Mac shook his head exasperatedly, let the sorry excuse for a cell-phone drop to the ground and snatched the desired object out of his friend's hand.

"Shouldn't we be taking cover, Mac?"

"Nah, we're good out here. We only want to destroy the crate and its contents, not blow the whole building." As an afterthought, he added, "There are still people in there, after all."

"I wouldn't shed a single tear for those bastards!" Jack mumbled under his breath. Mac heard him, nonetheless.

"I know you wouldn't, Jack. Neither would I, but you know that I always try to keep casualties to a minimum."

"Yeah, I know. And that's why I love you, kid!"

Mac blushed a little and quickly dialed his own phone number. When he hit the green call-button on the touch screen, they waited with baited breaths for the connection to establish. The seconds lengthened. Although reception was very low in the old and run-down industrial area, the screen changed from 'trying to connect' to 'ringing' after a while. They had to wait several more agonizingly long seconds for anything to happen. Just when they were wondering if maybe their 'friends' had found their little surprise and disabled it, the wires, which Mac had connected to his phone in order to spark when a call came in, ignited a bucket full of a very touchy mixture of more or less ordinary household-chemicals. The thing went off with quite a decent KABOOOM! Jack cheered happily, held out his fist and Mac bumped it. "Party seems to be over!" The blonde man grinned. "Let's clean up the place and make sure our new friends don't get lost on their way home!"

"Sure, we should… But without any ammo left?"

"Jack, you know that and I know that…" The left the half-finished sentence hanging. Jack agreed, somewhat reluctantly, with a silent nod.

Both partners carefully put their ears to the door and listened. They heard soft moaning, but nothing that indicated much resistance. They shared a glance, nodded at each other and Mac silently removed the bar, with which he had blocked the entrance earlier. Jack pulled the door open and grabbed his gun, acting as if ready to take out an army. Mac kept the metal bar for good measure. They entered with caution and took a good look at the mess they had created.

"Wow! Wild party, I guess! Seems to have gotten just a lill' bit outta hand…" Jack declared with awe in his voice, as he took in the still smoking remains of the shipment, the debris covering everything around it and the at least seven men lying around in various states of unconsciousness, some of them moaning and stirring weakly, others out cold. Luckily, all of them had been far enough from the explosion to get knocked out, but not to get killed by the blast. Mac let out a relieved sigh.

"Yeah, looks like it. Good thing we left early! I'd hate the hangover!" Mac smirked. "Come on, let's collect those beauties and order them some transport. Make sure they don't leave on their own."

"Not gonna happen! None of them looks like they should be driving…. Or even walking!" Jack returned the smirk. He quickly and efficiently cleared the place. After he'd made sure that nobody was lurking for them anywhere, they dragged all seven groggy 'party-guests' to a spot where they were easy to watch. They bound their wrists and ankles with their own belts and straps from their clothing.

"Neat!" Jack exclaimed and addressed the group: "You're now all invited to another party! My boss is dying to hear the story behind your misbehavior on this one!"

Those who had their eyes open glared daggers at him.

* * *

Back at Phoenix, our guys are on the way to the parking garage after the debriefing.

"So tell me, Jack: For how long have you been carrying around electric waste on missions?"

There wasn't even the slightest trace of accusation in Mac's question. In fact, he sounded curious and rather amused, but Jack squirmed uncomfortably and murmured something unintelligible under his breath. When Mac caught his guilty expression, he grabbed his partner's arm to turn him around. "Look at me, Jack!" Mac waited for his friend to face him. "What's eating you, partner? Talk to me!"

"I owe you an apology, buddy!" he replied, full of remorse. Mac shook his head and took a breath to speak, but Jack cut him off, "Yes, Mac, I do! I could have blown the mission! I put both our lives in danger with my 'brilliant idea'! It was sheer luck, that the the delay hasn't gotten us caught… or worse!" He shuddered. "Feel free to break my phone, or whatever you want, on every single mission. You'll never hear me complain about it again, really!" He looked downright crestfallen. Mac felt bad for his friend.

"Jack, it's fine, honestly! WE're fine! And you're right, by the way. When I'm working on stuff, I just take what I need. I don't really care where it comes from or who it belongs to."

"Kid, when you're doing your thing, it's to finish a mission and, more often than not, to save lives. Usually our's. I don't know what's gotten into me! It's just a stupid phone, for God's sake! I can get a new one any day! I'd have never forgiven myself if anything happened to you, because I -" He trailed off, looking shaken by the thought. Mac had enough of that. He had to lighten the mood.

"You know what, partner? Next time I need your phone, I'll tell you if you're gonna get it back in one piece or not. So in case you brought a spare, and I don't necessarily need it in working order, I can use that one." He smiled jokingly at his friend. Jack couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, sure, you do that!" The mental image of him carrying a knapsack full of junk on missions from now on, just in case his genius partner needed something he didn't want to part with broadened his smile. He already felt much better.

"Pizza and beer at my place?" Mac suggested, "along with a movie?"

Jack agreed, relief washing through him. "Whatever you want, pal. And... Thanks!"

"Don't mention it!"

MacGyver held out his fist and Jack bumped it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeez, I hope you like a lot of cheese on your pizza... Anyway, thanks for reading! :)


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